


You Can't Qwantify Love

by Krissielee



Category: Bridget Jones's Diary - All Media Types, Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: M/M, No Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8113756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krissielee/pseuds/Krissielee
Summary: Harry bit his lip as he pulled up the Qwantifier website in his office at Kingsman headquarters. Jack Quant had been on the news rather a lot recently, explaining how the algorithm he’d devised was able to determine compatibility with a near-perfect success rate so far.So just maybe it would work for him, too.**No Bridget Jones's Baby spoilers, honest!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SherlockianonFire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianonFire/gifts).



> Sorry for the stupidly cheesy title ^^;;
> 
> Also, this is for my sweet Carol's anniversary. I didn't expect it to get this big, but you know how things are. Anyway, you know how much I adore you, love. <3
> 
> Betas by the gorgeous Dia and Mona, both of whom said this was pretty decent. All leftover mistakes are mine.
> 
> NO BJB spoilers, unless you consider knowing how Jack made his money a spoiler.

Harry bit his lip as he pulled up the Qwantifier website in his office at Kingsman headquarters. Jack Quant had been on the news rather a lot recently, explaining how the algorithm he’d devised was able to determine compatibility with a near-perfect success rate so far.

So just maybe it would work for him, too.

He was 53 years old, and he’d never found love. Not until he caught sight of defiant green eyes and the hard-set shoulders of Gary “Eggsy” Unwin, codename Galahad.

Unfortunately, Eggsy was so very young, and so very full of life, whereas Harry …

Harry Hart was old. His hands shook after Kentucky and he sometimes needed a cane to keep upright. He had nightmares and countless scars. He was set in his ways, and he had never had a significant relationship in his life.

He stared at the screen, at the cursor blinking, mocking him every moment he couldn’t bring himself to type the boy’s name. The stupid heart-and-banners background was cloying, too.

 _Qwantify love? Quant_ if _y only …_

Quant had made _billions_ on this?

“Fuck it,” Harry muttered, hastily typing his name, followed by Eggsy’s, before hitting enter.

_Harry Hart and Gary Unwin  
Compatibility: 6%_

The heart on the background broke, and even the love doctor wept on the screen.

Harry scowled. How dare it confirm what he already knew to be true—that he wasn’t meant for love?

He shut the lid of his laptop sharply, leaning back in his chair. Perhaps this time, it was wrong? Perhaps if Harry just tried to woo Eggsy, then he’d have the young man for himself.

Eggsy was due back from Cambodia in two days.

Harry just hoped that was enough time to come up with a plan.

\--

It wasn’t enough time. He made it to the airstrip late, and Roxy was already there to greet Eggsy with a hug and a kiss, smiling wide as she asked after his mission. Eggsy looked happy with her, relaxed as she touched him and chided him over his minor wounds.

Harry’s heart ached. Clearly he’d had it all wrong—the looks Eggsy gave him had been merely an old man’s fantasy. He had a lovely young woman by his side who was competent and _whole_ , and whom he clearly adored. 

The arm she slung around his shoulders, the tired fingers wrapping themselves in her hand, the bowed heads as she led him to Medical for his post-mission workup, it all proved that Harry’s small bouquet and offer of dinner would prove futile.

He turned to leave the hangar, dropping the flowers on the nearest desk. Maybe they’d have better luck in love, and a long, happy life with someone.

Harry was used to being alone.

\--

_Gary Unwin and Roxanne Morton  
Compatibility: 97%_

Harry tightened his lips in displeasure. Even the little love doctor was partying on the screen as the wedding march played, blaring everlasting happiness to the couple.

Fuck the Qwantifier.

Maybe Eggsy didn’t want him. Maybe he’d never want him. But Harry had to try. This was probably his last chance at happiness.

If he didn’t try, he’d regret it.

\--

Recon. Location: the Unwin flat. Early afternoon.

Eggsy himself was working in the shop; he shouldn’t be home for hours. Harry’d written the schedule himself, after all, with this exact plan in mind.

This meant Harry could get to know his family—he and Michelle had never really buried the hatchet after their first disastrous meeting, and he’d only ever seen pictures of Eggsy’s young sister. If he were to woo the young man properly, he needed to know those he loved most.

He stopped at the door to the flat, so reminiscent of the first time he’d stood outside their door, though now, with happier circumstances. Michelle’s son was alive and thriving, and he’d apologise for the unfortunate circumstances of their first meeting. He couldn’t explain what it was Eggsy did for a living, but he could promise to do his utmost to keep him alive for her and Daisy.

He shifted the small box of chocolates and the stuffed lion to his left hand so he could knock on the door, but he froze when Eggsy opened it, the smile on the young man’s face faltering only slightly as he looked at Harry.

“Er—Geraint told me he’d cover,” Eggsy said. “Ain’t skipping work, swear down.”

“I’m not here about that,” Harry began. “I was wondering if your mother was home.”

Eggsy’s brow furrowed. “Yeah …”

“May I come in?” Harry prompted after a pause, and Eggsy nodded, cheeks flushing just a bit.

“We’re all in the livin’ room,” Eggsy explained, and Harry could hear laughter and the background noises of the telly even down the hallway. He followed along, stopping short when he entered the room.

Michelle was on the couch, Daisy on the floor playing blocks … with Roxy. 

“Boss checkin’ up on me playin’ hooky,” Eggsy explained, winking at Harry before joining his sister and—and girlfriend on the floor.

“I assure you that’s not the case,” Harry said. “I wanted to see how your mother and sister were settling into the new place. I even brought gifts,” he added, offering the chocolates to Michelle, who looked distrustful though she did thank him. He then got down on one knee, not too close to Daisy, who looked nearly as wary as her mother. Harry had expected that; knowing what he did of Eggsy’s childhood meant that Daisy would likely be worried about new men around the house. But he forged on, holding out the lion. “Eggsy told me you’re fond of lions, Miss Daisy,” he said carefully, and even Roxy smiled as she nudged the girl forward to take the toy.

“What d’you say, Dais?” Eggsy said, and there was that soft look in his eyes, the one Harry had once thought meant something, before he’d learned the truth.

“Ta,” Daisy whispered as she gripped the lion tight. Harry smiled. 

“You’re most welcome, my dear,” he said kindly as he stood. He wasn’t too good with children, and even less so when he had an audience, all of whom were judging his every move. He turned to Michelle, clearing his throat. “I had wanted to … apologise, for our last meeting,” he began, “and to reassure you that your son is safe in my care. I’ll do my best to let no harm come to him.”

Michelle stayed silent, though she didn’t look quite as hard as she had done only minutes before. Perhaps she only meant to comfort him enough to get him out of her home.

“Miss Morton, Eggsy, I’ll see you at work,” Harry said, bowing slightly as he made an admittedly ungentlemanly haste towards the door.

Next time he tried to drop by, he’d make sure Eggsy wasn’t even on British soil.

\--

Recon. Location: The Black Prince Pub. Mid-evening.

This was where Eggsy had spent so long with his friends, and Harry was going to see if he could learn about them and the sort of people Eggsy liked.

Besides, he’d heard their supper menu was excellent. Perhaps he’d get a pint of Guinness, something to eat, and absorb the environment. He was a _spy_ , after all, and if he couldn’t glean anything from being in a place where he knew well Eggsy had spent a lot of his time, then he wasn’t as good as he fancied he was.

The last he’d heard, Eggsy was spending the day at home with his sister, so he should be free to observe unbothered.

As he entered the pub, though, Harry’s heart sank a bit. Eggsy was there, with his friends—the ones from the council estate, clearly already a few pints into a good evening.

Eggsy mates spotted him first, and Harry knew enough about Eggsy’s previous life that he was almost certain they were pointing him out as a mark. But when Eggsy’s eyes landed on him, his smile faltered a little and he took only a moment to stand and join him.

“You stalkin’ me or sommat?” he joked awkwardly.

“Of course not,” Harry replied. “They have excellent Guinness here. I thought I’d pop in for a drink and perhaps a meal. Of course, I could leave if you feel uncomfortable with me here,” he added. “I don’t want to intrude on your time with your friends.”

“Nah, you ain’t botherin’ me or nothin’—exceptin’ where you’s clearly stalkin’ me, anyway,” Eggsy added playfully. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you,” he said, a hand low on Harry’s back to lead him to the table, the warmth lingering long after they were seated and introductions made.

“You’re Eggsy’s boss, then?” Ryan asked, and Harry nodded. “How come you ain’t give him more time off? He’s always workin’ late an’ we ain’t see him much now he’s a tailor an’ proper-like.”

“Eggsy’s welcome to request fewer hours if he chooses,” Harry suggested, glancing at the boy. “He only need ask and I’ll do my best to accommodate him.”

“Nah, mate, ain’t like that,” Eggsy protested. “Harry’s givin’ me hours ‘cause I want ‘em. I’ll try to make it out ‘ere for you lot more often, yeah?”

The conversation was certainly more stilted after Harry arrived; neither of Eggsy’s old mates seemed too inclined to include him in their discussion. It made sense, though, with their distrust of the higher classes from years of poor treatment, and so he made the decision to table his plans for covert intel gathering in favour of working out how best to extract himself from the situation.

“I should go,” Harry said. “I’m sure Ryan and Jamal would much rather not have their night hindered by your boss.”

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Eggsy said, and there was that flash of hope that twisted the knife in Harry’s heart.

“Yes, of course, Eggsy.”

\--

_You call yourself a spy?_

The message popped up on Harry’s computer along with a screenshot of the Qwantifier, and Harry sighed, pressing the button on his glasses to connect him to Merlin.

“What do you want to keep this quiet?” he asked. He was under no delusions that his friend would back down quietly.

“Why, Harry, I’m appalled. I merely wanted to alert you that by using your work computer to follow your adolescent schoolboy fantasies you’re making them privy to anybody who can access the servers.”

“You mean you.” Harry knew how tight a hold Merlin had on the security of Kingsman. Nobody else would have the skill to break into the system and find Harry’s deleted search histories.

“Quite. Now, I can help you, if you’d like.”

Harry sighed. “I’m doing fine, Merlin.”

Merlin scoffed. “If you can call an unmitigated disaster fine …”

“ _Goodbye_ , Merlin.” Harry tapped the glasses off and pulled them from his face, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. How could he tell his oldest friend how lovesick he was? It was bad enough being as old as he was and lusting for someone barely out of puberty, but to have people _know_? And for them to know how futile the whole situation was, at that? That was too much.

He just needed to come up with a way to talk to Eggsy alone. See if perhaps he had a chance, however slim it might be.

\--

Recon. Location: Kingsman Tailors. Five-thirty in the morning.

Eggsy was due back in the country within the hour, and Harry would be heading up his debriefing session, before he got the mandatory two-day rest period. 

And maybe, just maybe, he could invite the boy to an early breakfast before he went home to his family and girlfriend.

Six-fifteen. Eggsy’s cab stopped in front of the shop, and he came out, maybe a little worse for wear, but still looking pleased with himself. The mission had, after all, been a smashing success, with the CEOs of the pharmaceutical company behind bars and the tainted paracetamol destroyed, with no casualties whatsoever.

Harry sat on the couch, though he held in his hand a strong cup of coffee rather than the whiskey he’d held the last time Eggsy had walked through those doors to meet him. There was a second set on the end table for Eggsy; Harry would make the debrief as painless as possible but it would still likely be at least another hour’s worth of detailing every action and finishing up the written report.

“Didn’t know you was ever up this early, Arthur,” Eggsy greeted, bright though the fatigue in his body was evident. 

Harry nodded to the cup of coffee, and Eggsy sat down heavily on the couch—Harry had never managed to teach him to wait for an invitation to sit—and began drinking deeply from the mug. “I felt it would be better to take care of your debriefing before the details had a chance to fade,” Harry explained. “How was Virginia?”

Eggsy sat up a bit straighter, excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Oh, was ace,” he began. “Statesman’s wicked helpful, yeah? An’ that one bloke, Jack Daniels? You know, like the whiskey? He’s _brilliant_.” Then he was off, detailing Jack’s best qualities and how helpful he’d been in completing the mission.

Harry’s heart sank, though outwardly he remained stoic, listening attentively to Eggsy’s grandiose account of infiltrating Mallinckrodt as a uni intern, Jack pretending to be a new supervisor. The hardest part, he said, was working out how to get into the CEO’s offices and find the pertinent files without arousing suspicions. As an intern, though, Eggsy’d had easier access than expected; he flirted with the guards a bit and _brilliant Jack_ had kept the secretarial staff occupied as he slipped in, expertly cracking the safe’s combination and finding the files. He was in and out with the files in fifteen minutes, and it would’ve been finished except that he walked out into a fistfight. 

_Brilliant Jack_ hadn’t been so brilliant then, Harry thought smugly; Harbaugh’s PA hadn’t bought the supervisor act at all and had called for a security backup.

At least nobody had died, though Eggsy had shot a few people with amnesia darts and shocked a handful more, earning himself a couple of bruises for his trouble.

He finished his tale with talks of how Jack had promised to visit the next time he was in England, and with an open-ended offer for Eggsy to visit him again in the States.

Harry really wished he had some brandy for his coffee—suddenly, he was very put off from whiskey.

“Right, well, I think that’s all I need,” Harry said. “Have your written report finished before you go home. I’m sure your sister misses you dearly.” He stood abruptly and headed for the dining room to take some time to think.

“Arthur?” Eggsy asked as he reached the steps. Harry paused. “You al’ight?”

“Fine, Eggsy,” Harry replied softly. He wasn’t, but now he understood. Even if Harry wasn’t competing with Roxy for Eggsy’s affections, he was still too old and damaged to catch his eye. _Brilliant Jack_ had never gotten himself shot in the head. He probably didn’t wear dark glasses to hide the scarring, or need a cane when he was tired, or watch his hands shake when he got frustrated because he couldn’t remember the words he was searching for. He was _brilliant_ , after all, and Eggsy was too.

They were fucking perfect for each other.

So much for breakfast.

\--

“Let’s go to dinner,” Merlin said, standing in the doorway of Harry’s office. “I know for a fact you’ve got the night free, and I’d kill for a good curry.” 

“I’m sure you have,” Harry replied dryly. He wasn’t much in the mood to go out, though. He never was, anymore. He worked, and he went home, spending his evenings talking to Mr. Pickle and going over the reports he’d not finished during the day.

At least nobody could say he was shirking his duty as head of Kingsman.

He kept his eyes on his computer, pretending to read the words on the screen.

Merlin was still there, and he didn’t look to be in the mood for Harry’s antics. “Well? Grab your coat, Harry.”

“I’m not hungry.” Fuck, he sounded like a petulant infant even to his own ears.

“That wasn’t a request.”

“I’ve got work to do.”

“You’ll just do it at home like you’ve done the past two weeks.” Damn. Merlin had him there. “Just come on, Harry. You can’t hide away forever.”

 _Watch me_ , Harry thought, but he knew better than to say that to Merlin’s face. “If I go, will you stop badgering me?”

Merlin shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Harry scoffed, but Merlin didn’t waver until Harry slammed his laptop shut. “Fine. But you owe me. I want a bottle of that single-malt you keep squirreled away.”

Merlin ignored him. “Grab your coat, Harry. The cab will be here in five minutes. More than enough time for you to get to the kerb, bum leg or not.”

“Fuck off, Merlin.” He did as directed, though, making his way down to the front of the shop, where there was indeed a cab waiting for them.

Merlin held the door for him, though Harry hadn’t really planned to make a run for it anyway. He couldn’t outrun his oldest friend anymore. He slid into the cab regardless any qualms he might have had, and the door was shut and locked before he realised what was happening.

Merlin wasn’t coming.

“Al’ight there, Harry?”

Fucking traitor.

Harry’s heart clenched. “Fine, Eggsy.”

“Merlin’s set up a nice meal at Zaika for us.”

“That’s a bit … romantic, isn’t it?”

“S’that a problem?”

Harry hesitated, but shook his head. It wasn’t, not really … it would just be more difficult to forget about the Qwantifier’s results, being so close to the boy he cared deeply for.

Right. He needed to get his mind off that, and fast. “How are your mother and sister?”

“Fine,” Eggsy said, smiling. “Daisy’s starting pre-school soon,” he went on, then detailed all the work that had gone into finding the perfect place for her, with highly qualified teachers and staff who would work around the odd scheduling conflicts. Apparently Daisy had loved the playground and hadn’t wanted to leave, though Eggsy was confident she’d find time to learn. Harry was smiling as he told the story; though he’d only met her the one time, and honestly not really even then, he cared for the girl. Eggsy clearly adored her, and that was good enough for Harry.

“School’s wicked progressive, too—we added Rox to the list o’ people that can pick ‘er up if Mum an’ I can’t get there,” Eggsy finished, just as the cab pulled up to the restaurant and they were led to a candlelit table.

“So things are good between the two of you,” Harry said softly. He thought he masked his despair rather well, all things considered.

“Oh, yeah, Rox’s the best. Daisy loves ‘er, Mum loves her, an’ she’s fuckin’ ruthless in the field,” Eggsy confirmed. “Couldn’t ask for a better mate.”

Harry wondered at the inclusion of the word “mate;” surely Eggsy was proud of his girlfriend? Unless perhaps he thought it was against Kingsman regulations.

“You know, Eggsy, it’s not against the rules to have a relationship with your co-workers,” Harry said, stilted and uncomfortable, but he needed to say it, so maybe Eggsy would just put him out of his misery and tell him there was no chance for the two of them.

But Eggsy looked a bit confused by Harry’s concession, shaking his head. “What’s that got to do with … wait. You think … me an’ Rox?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Of course not! She’s me best mate, yeah, but she’s sweet on Merlin!”

Harry blinked, shocked. He hadn’t even considered anything but Eggsy and Roxy being together—that she had designs on someone else, on _Merlin_ , threw a spanner in the works of everything he thought he knew about Eggsy.

“Oh.” Not his most eloquent response, but Harry wasn’t sure what else to say.

Eggsy smirked then, but it was almost fond as he toyed with the silverware on the table. “She ain’t hold a candle to the bloke I fancy.” Right. _Brilliant Jack_. “He never saw me as less’n him, neither. But she don’t like old musicals or keep her stuffed dog in the toilet or make fuckin’ cherry-poppin’ jokes in the shop with me.”

“ _Oh_.”

“Kept waitin’ on you, Harry,” Eggsy said, now watching Harry carefully. “Thought those looks you gave me meant somethin’, but then you jus’ … stopped. An’ Merlin clued me in, said you thought I was datin’ Rox, or in love with Jack.” One of those perfectly small, calloused hands slid across the table, and Harry met it with his own. Now that he knew he wouldn’t be rebuffed, Harry never wanted to make Eggsy feel unimportant again. “But it’s been you since the start.”

Harry watched their hands, how different they looked, how perfectly they fit together. He wanted what Eggsy was offering him, but he needed to find the words to explain what had happened. “You’ll forgive me my fears, Eggsy; I’ve never had much luck with love.”

Eggsy squeezed his hand, smiling wider. “So we’ll learn together. You can’t possibly be as bad as the worst I’ve seen, an’ I wouldn’t let you get away with that anyway—an’ you’ll teach me how to be better, too. S’perf, innit? You an’ me, an’ goin’ round Mum’s for dinner, pickin’ up Daisy from school, chattin’ whilst I’m on mission …”

When he put it like that, it did sound a little romantic, in a way. Perhaps that was how spies had relationships. It wasn’t as if Harry had experience with a relationship that lasted, after all. It was time to try something new.

With Eggsy. With the hotheaded, kind, beautiful boy that Harry didn’t think he could live without anymore.

He’d been right, all those weeks ago: fuck the Qwantifier.


End file.
